The Diplodocus

A Short Story June 23, 2008

There’s a restaurant down the street from our apartment called Tavaa. It’s not the fanciest place in the world — the decor is faux-rustic, with most of the seating outside on cane chairs, under ceiling fans. We’ve been meaning to eat there for some time and finally made it over there tonight.

The food was pretty tasty, if a bit on the surprising side. The menu was mostly Rajasthani/desert food — grilled meats, biriyani, warm flatbreads, that sort of thing. The chicken biriyani was a bit spicy for the wife, but tasty, and very good with the fresh naan and rumali roti. The grilled mutton had an interesting texture and was mildly spiced. Dessert was mango in sweetened curd (aam rabdi), which I liked but the wife wasn’t 100% in love with.

While we were eating, auto rickshaws and various cars sped by, separated from us by a dark wood fence. Workmen pushed wheeled carts. The expensive jewelery store across the street closed around 8. I drank mineral water out of a copper cup; she had a Coke. We eventually realized that the mutton had a weird texture because when the waiter said “grilled mutton chest” he most likely meant “grilled mutton heart.” Through the meal, the restaurant’s sound system was silent. Then, right as we were enjoying dessert, someone put on some music, Mims’ “This is Why I’m Hot.”